


Grant Me Wings That I Might Fly

by myrica_rubra



Category: All Elite Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: Angst and Porn, Character Study, Dream Sex, Injury Recovery, M/M, Pining, Sad and Happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-11-02 04:03:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20615786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrica_rubra/pseuds/myrica_rubra
Summary: It was easy enough to keep focused on his goals while in the ring, and there were plenty of other distractions to be found during the day, but sleepless nights like this were a struggle. And they were happening more and more often.





	Grant Me Wings That I Might Fly

**Author's Note:**

> Set the night before the G1 final. Title from Beloved by VNV Nation. Check it out if you want to feel some Golden Lovers feelings.

Kota kicked off the sheets for the third time that night. Summer nights were too hot for sheets, but the feeling of air on his bare skin had always made him feel unpleasantly exposed. That feeling was worse than ever now; he'd never felt so scrutinized as he had this past month.

Generally he preferred to ignore the attention he got, instead concentrating on whatever his current goal happened to be and hoping that everything else would work itself out. That skill had been especially helpful this year, for keeping his mind off not only the attention but also...Well. It was easy enough to keep focused on his goals while in the ring, and there were plenty of other distractions to be found during the day, but sleepless nights like this were a struggle. And they were happening more and more often.

Here he was at his most vulnerable, worn down and broken after a month of travel and intense matches, all while knowing that there were hundreds of thousands of eyes following his every move. And, this time, the spotlight was on him alone. His injured ankle was common knowledge, the immediate target of every opponent. He had felt almost defiant when pressing the button that would put his swollen ankle and purple skin on public display, just as he had felt earlier in the year when posting a picture of his ugly black eye, which he could barely open, and before that, his tooth, wired in place after being twisted out of its socket. Physical pain was easy to talk about and even easier to show. If he couldn't communicate the deeper pain he had been feeling all year, this would have to do.

He rolled onto his side, again, and caught sight of the clock by his bed. _12:34._ His restless mind latched onto the numbers and continued the sequence in time with the flashing lights on the display: _...5...6...7..._ He pulled his pillow over his head, annoyed with himself. In the pitch blackness, the dull ache of his ankle took center stage again.

The worst thing about this particular injury was the feeling of being trapped in his own body, kept slow and heavy and close to the ground, robbed of the freedom he usually felt in the ring, the only freedom he had left. But he had adapted. He would walk if he couldn't fly, no matter how painful the steps. He had to succeed, this time.

Last year...

Kota frantically tried to redirect his thoughts, but the pain and exhaustion had finally become too much for him.

The protective walls in his mind failed, and through them came a flood of forbidden memories, memories of warmth and safety, of strong arms around his waist and gentle words in his ear. He held his breath, waiting for the wave of pain and loneliness that usually accompanied these memories, but it didn't come. There _was_ pain, but it felt sweet somehow. Too weak now to resist, he closed his eyes and let the feeling wash over him.

He didn't hear the door open. He felt a familiar weight settle in bed next to him, felt the pillow lifted from his head, and there was Kenny, smiling at him, reaching for him. Kota pulled him down into a fierce hug, gasping for breath as though he had been drowning until this moment.

Kenny held Kota's head against his chest with one hand, letting Kota's tears soak into his shirt. His other hand played soothingly along Kota's back, awakening the nerves there. His lips were brushing against Kota's ear.

"Ibutan..."

That silly nickname. Kota had been told he should find it condescending, but all he could ever feel when he heard it was a foolish swell of love in his chest. That feeling threatened to overpower him now and he clung to Kenny, helpless in the face of it.

Kenny kissed his ear, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. Kota turned his head to meet Kenny's lips with a clumsy, desperate kiss.

"Please," Kota murmured urgently into Kenny's mouth, "I need you." There was only one other way Kota could experience that precious freedom he had been longing for since his injury.

Then Kenny was sitting back against the wall, naked, his eyes soft and his arms outstretched. He looked the same as he had last time Kota had seen him, as if no time had passed at all. Before his mind could dwell on that unlikely detail, Kota crawled into Kenny's lap and twined his limbs around him. Kenny crossed his legs behind Kota and drew him close.

Kota rolled his body against Kenny and kissed him again, hard, laying his hands on either side of Kenny's face. He stroked Kenny's cheeks with his thumbs, enjoying the rough scrape of stubble. Kenny's hands were wandering over Kota's shoulders, his back, his ass. Their erections were pressed together, side by side, and everything felt so familiar, and Kota wanted more.

As soon as he realized what he wanted, it was his: Kenny's cock, sliding easily into Kota as he lowered himself onto it, quickly--too quickly. He should be feeling pain from this; he _wanted_ to feel pain, wanted to be consumed by feeling. But Kenny grabbed his hips to keep him still.

"Slow down, baby," said Kenny softly. "Easy..."

Kota stubbornly tried to push down even harder, though he knew it was futile. Kenny, as always, was too strong. Kota sighed and relented, and they moved together, gently, until Kenny was sheathed inside him completely. It was all too much, but Kota wanted more. He closed his eyes, but he could still see the adoring expression on Kenny's face, so familiar to Kota, and only for him. They pulled each other even closer, clinging tightly together, Kota digging his fingers into Kenny's shoulders, Kenny's hands spread across Kota's back, holding him with calm, sure strength. Kota could hear himself panting.

He rested his cheek on Kenny's shoulder while Kenny kissed his neck tenderly. Slowly, Kota relaxed his grip and raised his head for another kiss. He could feel Kenny's cock throbbing inside of him; Kenny's heartbeat in Kota's body.

Then, slowly, they began rocking together, their movements building in intensity despite the usual limitations of this position. Kenny wrapped his hand around Kota's dick, and Kota muffled his moans against Kenny's skin. Kenny was whispering to him in response, but Kota couldn't make out any words.

Suddenly Kenny was on his back. He gave Kota a cocky little grin and raised his shoulders off the bed, pulling himself forward with his hands on Kota's hips. He licked the tip of Kota's cock, then took it into his mouth. Kota hissed and shivered and his head rolled back as Kenny fucked him and sucked his cock at the same time. It was overwhelming, it was everything Kota wanted, and he brushed away the knowledge that Kenny hadn't been able to do it like this in years.

He was so close now; he clenched his muscles and thrust into Kenny's mouth, and then he was coming, and for some reason he could feel it throughout his entire body. He gasped and twisted and squeezed as his orgasm rippled through him, and it wasn't stopping. He felt like his body was melting away, turning into light.

The next thing he knew, his alarm was beeping. He blinked into the morning light streaming through the curtains. Kenny wasn't there.

Before he could collect himself enough to react to the void that was Kenny's absence, he heard his phone vibrate. He knocked it toward himself and saw a text flash up on the screen. It was from Kenny.

_He's going to try to make you feel alone tonight,_ it read. _Don't let him. I'm with you, always._

Kota held the phone to his chest for a few moments as reality solidified around him. The pain was returning, not just in his ankle but in a thousand places all over his body, reminders of what he had put himself through over the years. But despite the pain, despite the weight and stiffness and exhaustion, despite the empty bed and the still silence of the room, he felt closer to whole than he had in months.

No matter the distance between him and Kenny, Kota held within him ten years' worth of memories. He carried his experience of Kenny with him everywhere. And he always would.

The phone screen blurred. Kota wiped his eyes.

_Thank you,_ he replied finally, _We'll do it together._


End file.
